


After the Wars

by W12_Supernatural



Series: The Four Kingdoms and how they heal [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Americanos (Whats west of Westeros) - Freeform, Aunt-Niece Relationship, Father-Daughter Relationship, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:47:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24256882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/W12_Supernatural/pseuds/W12_Supernatural
Summary: Teublonf reflects on his rule as King of the Four Kingdoms fifteen years after becoming King.Ten years later, his daughter and his sister have a conversation near identical to the one him and his sister had after his coronation.
Relationships: Relationships not important to the story
Series: The Four Kingdoms and how they heal [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1743118





	1. Teublonf: Fifteen Years

**Author's Note:**

> Family Tree for this story - I want to keep it in the notes so copy and paste the link into your browser
> 
> https://www.familyecho.com/?p=SITKR&c=g8w5zy8r76&f=847230719924149201

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teublonf reflects on the last fifteen years, as King of the Four Kingdoms.

_Teublonf sighed as he slowly got out of bed, apprehensive._

_He should have been happy, truthfully. Today he was being crowned King of the Four Kingdoms. Yet why he was being crowned, Teublonf misliked it._

_Perhaps he should have known. Haragon had, after the deaths of his wife and children, become incredibly depressed and drunk, so it necessarily wasn't a surprise when Teublonf woke up one morning, two years after the battle of Ofan, learning that his brother, the King of the Four Kingdoms, had died in his sleep. Whether because he wanted to join his wife and children in death or because he drank some particularly strong wine, Teublonf would never know._

_He wasn't mad at his brother. Far from it, Teublonf pitied him. Haragon wasn't the man he was when he'd been crowned, and like Teublonf, had dealt with so much. After becoming King, Haragon named Teublonf both his heir and hand of the king, tasking him with the running of the Four Kingdoms, rebuilding the war torn continent and making peace with the vengeful Coopers, Ryans, and Ledtowers._

_Teublonf had done all of that and made sure his brother's... habits were kept as much of a secret as was able, effectively juggling two monumental tasks_

_So after Haragon's death, the bells tolled and the various lords of the Four Kingdoms were summoned to Cracovia Heights to witness the coronation of Teublonf I Wanasov, King on the Blackwood Throne and Ruler of Four Kingdoms._

_"I'm not sure I'll make a good king," Teublonf had confessed to Raméa that night when all was said and done. He was King now, the supreme ruler of Four Kingdoms, yet he felt more vulnerable than ever._

_They were in Teublonf's personal chambers, Teublonf eyeing his crown on the table apprehensively, his sister sitting on the bed. "Why?" she asked, cocking her head to one side._

_"I never was made to be king. I never wanted it."_

_She smiled. "Yet, who was it that unified the Styr not a few years ago? Who managed to get the Frost and Nokoseov men to aid you at Ofan? Who managed to make peace with our ancient enemies? You did all that." Teublonf went to speak but Raméa shushed him. "You're the one who ran the realm while Haragon wasted away - yes, I knew about that," she added when Teublonf raised an eyebrow. "So naturally, the lords respect you greatly. As they should."_

_Teublonf remained apprehensive, and Raméa walked over to him and placed a comforting hand on his chest, smiling up at him._

_"If you're still alive in fifteen years, ponder whether or not you've been good king, okay?"_

_"Okay."_

_~_

The sun rises over Cracovia Heights, the way it has done for close to seven thousand years, and the way it will for seven thousand more. Parts of the castle are already up, and the morning guards are taking their shifts from the nighttime ones. The cooks begin to make the breakfast fare and the smiths begin forging their weapons, and their King wakes and begins preparing for the day.

Teublonf sighs. It is fifteen years to the day since he was crowned King on the Blackwood Throne and Ruler of Four Kingdoms. Yet somehow it feels like his first day. When he was nervous about ruling over four kingdoms that historically, were far more used to fighting each other than allying with each other and owing fealty to one of them. Back when he was nervous about keeping four kingdoms together, for one year, let alone fifteen.

Somehow he's done it. The Styr and House Wanasov; the Estenhaal and House Frost; the Valley and House Nokoseov; the Easterlands and House Northern. All owing fealty to the Wanasovs, and all allied Kingdoms, dealing with each other and being allies, and even friends in some cases. Teublonf had held them together somehow.

Not without challenges, of course. The Estenhaal was tied down due to his sister's marriage, and Teublonf remembered that the Frosts had sworn their oaths of fealty, returned to and consolidated their rule over the Estenhaal after Ofan, content to leave the other regions on their own. The Valley and Easterlands had been willing enough to swear their oaths to the Styr, but the two regions had long disliked each other and fighting had even broken out between Nokoseov and Northern men after Ofan. It had only been when Teublonf engineered a double marriage between the Northerns and Nokoseovs had everything calmed down; Lady Fiona Northern, now the Lady of Greenfeld and Lady Paramount of the East, marrying one of the Nokoseov cousins, and the Valley's heir, Ser Larys Nokoseov, marrying a Northern cousin. From the letters Teublonf received from Harnilon and Greenfeld, the capitals of the Valley and Easterlands, both marriages turned out to be happy and fruitful. A rare thing among marriages. Teublonf was happy everything worked out.

Teublonf had also faced a question of his own: Who would he himself marry? Of course, a King needed a Queen, if only for heirs. Teublonf had initially put the question off for a couple years as his new Kingdoms rebuilt after the wars. This was especially true for the Easterlands, the region that had experienced the blunt of the fighting, with the Cooperlanders and Sutherlanders leaving a trail of destruction across the southern Easterlands. The Styr had also experienced a large amount of fighting, and there were several castles in need of rebuilding and several in need of nobles to fill them, including Milner Hall and Grenton in the Styr and Vyrel and the Bloodholt in the Easterlands

So Teublonf's reasoning had put off talk of marriage for the first year or so. But then, on the first year of the fourth century after Aegon's Landing, talk had began again.

Teublonf may have had to deal with four Kingdoms at once, but the talk of marriage drained him even more than war.

 _"War is easier than marriage,"_ Haragon, who'd never remarried after losing both his wife and children, had been right. At least in war, you knew exactly what to do. Not so much in marriage. Marriage was complicated. War was simple.

The talk angered Teublonf. He wanted to choose a wife solely of his own volition. When he'd made that clear to his council, all talk had stopped, no one willing to risk their King's wrath. Still, Teublonf needed heirs, and he needed them as soon as possible.

To that end, he'd gone and married his childhood friend, Rowena Brien, not long after New Year's Day, 300 AC. They'd done it in a way that left no way for any of his vassals to argue, marrying in the Godswood of Cracovia Heights and informing his kingdom the following day. Not that they could do anything about it, the marriage had already been consummated and Rowena had lain with him willingly. Thus the Four Kingdoms had their queen.

It was very much a love match, Teublonf having loved her since he was fostered at Analon nearly two decades prior; There was no doubt in Cracovia that the King and Queen of the Four Kingdoms loved each other. It was a politically savvy match to some extent as well, House Brien being one of the strongest major Houses in the Styr, though their power had diminished significantly following the Wars of the Seven Kingdoms. Rowena also proved to be an excellent administrator, running the Styr when Teublonf's responsibilities as a King took him elsewhere. She was also a warrior, and the Dréis respected that. Not so much the Andal influenced Estenhaalites and Eastermen, but they'd learn to respect her.

Their first child, a girl, had been born exactly nine moons after their marriage. They named her Kyra, a name common in the Styr, and a common name for Wanasov Queens, six to be exact. She was a calm child, not one to cry as much as other babes, and she was all Teublonf in both appearance and temperament. Many in Cracovia whispered that she would grow up to be a beauty, what with her having Teublonf's looks and having Rowena Brien for a mother. Even at three and ten she already was, and Teublonf was already fielding marriage proposals.

_Seven Hells can't my daughter pick who she wants to marry? Gods know I did._

She was also a lover of martial aspects of life, much like her parents were. So Teublonf had personally overseen her training when possible, and when he couldn't, Rowena did. As it turned out, she was a natural swordsman and similarly good with a bow. Had she not been the heir to the Four Kingdoms, she most likely would have become a warrior, maybe a knight (The Styr did have female knights after all) and a commander in her father's armies. In spite of that, she impressed and charmed practically everyone she came across with her abilities, and those who mocked her, well they had Teublonf to deal with, and the King had no mercy for those who insulted his children.

Their second child was a son, and they named him Phillip, after the man who'd been both Rowena's father by blood and Teublonf's in all but blood. He had the red hair and high cheekbones of the Devons and the Brien blue eyes. In sharp contrast to both his parents and his older sister, Phillip was bookish. He could wield a sword, but much preferred the extensive library of Cracovia Heights to the castle's training grounds. Teublonf caught his eldest son several times in there when he was supposed to be asleep. Not that he really minded. Books made Phillip happy and Teublonf wanted his children to be as happy as they could be.

He was also intelligent. Wickedly so, more than a two and ten year old had any right to be. If he hadn't been averse to the order of Maesters following Doctoron, Teublonf would have sent him to Point Lavu in the Reachlands to become one once he came of age. Yet Phillip didn't have any indication of wanting to, and he impressed all he interacted with with his intelligence, memory, and wit. He wasn't a swordsman, but he had his own weapon, his mind. Teublonf had a feeling that once Kyra became queen, she would keep her brother close as an unofficial advisor, maybe even hand. Gods knew Teublonf's own hand of the King, Niklas Sovanen, wasn't the sharpest weapon in the armory.

Aramark had been born two years after Phillip, and whereas Kyra was all Teublonf, little Aramark was all Rowena. Tall for his age, with blonde hair and blue eyes, many in Cracovia said he would be the envy of every maiden from Cold Harbor to Merne. Teublonf didn't necessarily think they were wrong, maybe he could use Aramark for a marriage alliance in the future.

Aramark was fostering out at Greenfeld in the Easterlands, both to appease the Eastermen and strengthen the ties between the two regions; The Styr and Easterlands , aside from the Styr conquering the region under Swyl the conqueror, rarely interacted, and Teublonf had thought it good for a prince of the four Kingdoms to foster out in one of his constituent regions.

His two youngest, Swyl and Sharyn, were twins, much like Teublonf and his own sister were, born two years after Aramark. They were young children of six, but they were lovely young children. Swyl had the Wanasov black hair and grey eyes, looking so much like the man he'd been named after. The elder Swyl Wanasov had been a brother to Teublonf, and had fought along his side as Teublonf dealt with Robyn, being his closest advisor and giving his life in service of the Styr, and clearly the younger Swyl, a nephew he would never get to meet, took after him in his mentality, too, boasting about how he would become a great warrior, fighting for his country and homeland, and priding himself on it. Hopefully living out his life relatively peacefully, unlike the man he'd been named after.

 _You'll never get to meet him, Swyl. But i hope he makes you proud. I know he will make me proud._ Teublonf wasn't necessarily a superstitious person, but he secretly hoped that Swyl was watching his namesake from high above. 

Sharyn, named after Lady Brien (Rowena's sister and Teublonf's first love) had the Brien blonde hair and Devon green eyes, but her jaw was notably square, notably Wanasov. She was a sweet girl, not like Kyra in any way, but a sweet, innocent girl all the same. She reminded Teublonf of Raméa in all of the best ways possible. Kind, intelligent, beautiful, and sweet. Notably like Raméa, she loved Youngston honey cakes, and Teublonf made sure she had as many as was reasonable. Young Swyl, for his part, was fostering in Harnilon, so as to improve the ties between the Styr and the Valley, especially after the massacre at Paganal.

Of course, Rowena made sure Sharyn could protect herself, but like Phillip, the martial aspects of life were clearly not for her. Teublonf had remedied that, by suggesting Raméa foster her when she turned eight. (Styrics fostered both sons and daughters, as rare as it was to foster out girls). He'd sent a letter out to Demoory and not long after had gotten a response from his sister, who seemed willing to do it. So, after her eight nameday, his younger daughter was sent out to Demoory, under the tutelage of her aunt in the Estenhaal.

Teublonf was thrown from his thoughts when he felt a pair of arms wrapping themselves around his waist, and a familiar smell reached his nose. Then a head pressed intimately into his back. _Rowena._

"Come back to bed love," his wife murmured. "S'too early for you to be up."

"A king should never rest easy," Teublonf smiled nonetheless. In truth, he would have given everything up just to spend the rest of his life just in her arms. 

"I wasn't talking to Teublonf the King, I was talking to Teublonf the man."

Teublonf chuckled at that. "Of course you were, and thats why I love you."

"Oh, thats not the only reason," Rowena giggled. She moved so that she was she was next to him, her head on his shoulder and right arm around his waist as Teublonf's left arm snaked around her waist. "You love me for other reasons, too."

"Aye." They were staring into the main courtyard now, several stories below. It was already a hub of activity, some young men and Wanasov guards sparring, the servants milling around with their duties. Teublonf saw a few bowmen practicing their archery.

"Shall we call a bath?" Rowena had asked after several minutes of companionable silence. Teublonf simply nodded.

"That would be great. And breakfast in our chambers, as well."

~

When that was done and both were changed into their day clothes, Teublonf in his traditional leather and plate armor (he hated fancy clothes, and remained wearing his Lord Commander clothes) with a sword strapped to his belt, and Rowena in a light blue and green gown that brought out her blue eyes, they effectively began their day, Teublonf holding court and small council meetings, and sparring with his men and even Kyra, who despite being three and ten was an excellent swordsman, though naturally Teublonf beat her easily. She was improving, at least, with Rowena handling the day to day administration of the Kingdom, as she typically did.

There were no celebrations, the Styrics did things simpler than most. There were well wishes and gifts from all corners of the Four Kingdoms, from Cold Harbor to Maltfast, and everywhere in between, to signify the fifteen year reign of Teublonf I Wanasov, the King on the Blackwood Throne and Ruler of Four Kingdoms. From his sister in Demoory a new scabbard for his sword, to replace the one thats been worn with age (Teublonf remembered her making a rather offhand comment about that the last time they'd seen each other),from Lady Northern, a brand new set of armor forged in Greenfeld, and from Harnilon and Lord Nokoseov, a stallion from Harnilon's stables among the major gifts; Teublonf isn't a good rider, hates it even, but he can't exactly refuse a gift from a key bannerman. Luckily, his daughter clearly inherited her aunt's love of riding, and Teublonf thinks of gifting her the stallion when she comes of age. At least it will be put to good use.

It all makes him uncomfortable, in truth. Teublonf is used to court and dealing with celebrations, he's King after all. But a significant part of him just wants to spend the day in private with his family. Even though he knows he can't. A man can dream, can't he?

Theres a feast in the Great Hall of Cracovia, and all nobles and knights from all across the Four Kingdoms are in attendance, from Killjoy's Hold to Cold Harbor. There is much food, drink, and merriment, some of the older lords and knights swapping war stories, Teublonf among them; its one of the reasons he's loved across his kingdom, he doesn't put on airs when talking to his bannermen. He respects them fully, and he fights with his men, inspires them. The Styrics in particular have not forgot how Teublonf (and Swyl) had been the ones to unite the Four Kingdoms truly. There is much drinking, boasting, and even a bit of fighting, which is all in good fun. The realm doesn't get that much reason to celebrate, so they ought to celebrate when they can.

The ladies do... whatever the ladies do. Teublonf doesn't pay attention to what his wife does during times like these, though he suspects Rowena and their eldest daughter are in the training yard, having swapped their dresses for tunics and breeches and sparring in the training ground. Not that he particularly minded.

Its a merry feast, celebrating fifteen years of the Four Kingdoms being a single, peaceful entity. For the first time in Americanosi history, the kingdoms were not unified by war, as the Wanasovs had done several times throughout the previous six thousand years, but of shared friendship and kinship between four Kingdoms that all had their previous rivalries. Yet they were here, Frost and Northern, Wanasov and Nokoseov, Farrin and Aiaton, Nyven and Lupin. The Four Kingdoms are an example to the rest of Americanos as to what friendship and kinship can do, can make bitter enemies into close allies (The Umbrians of Farrin and Sorepoint men of Aiaton case in point) Several of his lords and ladies have taken spouses from other regions, unheard of previously, especially among the Styrics. All in all, it's a very happy time.

Later that night, with Rowena fast asleep in his arms after a lovemaking session, becomes one of the only times Teublonf allows himself to think back on what his siblings and father would think of him. His father and Falahim would be proud, no doubt, proud to see what his House had become and how good of a ruler Teublonf was. Cameron and Haragon probably thought the same, and both probably would have been happy that their homeland was in safe hands, and how Cameron's vision of the Styr's status in Americanos was not only an actual thing, but how it had been expanded on by their youngest sibling. Swyl would be proud as well, the two had always been brothers, and he would have become proud of young Swyl. Teublonf didn't know what Péotr, Aramark, or Aragon would think but none of them had been particularly close to Teublonf, and neither had Eliza. He knows all of them, bar perhaps Eliza, would love his children, the next generation of House Wanasov, the future of a house that had been reduced to so few members following the Wars of the Seven Kingdoms. They'd all be proud that the future of their house, the oldest in all of Americanos was in good hands, that they would not have to see it become extinct or fall from grace.

Teublonf remembers his conversation with his sister all those years ago, when Teublonf had been first crowned King, when he was apprehensive about ruling.

_'If you're still alive in fifteen years, ponder whether or not you've been good king, okay?'_

So he ponders. And he thinks he's done a good job as King. Not spectacular, but good. Good enough to be remembered, not that he necessarily wants to be remembered.

Its been fifteen years and Teublonf is happy with how everything turned out. As he falls asleep, he hopes the next fifteen years will be much the same.


	2. Raméa: Déja Vu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As her niece is about to be crowned Queen of the Four Kingdoms, Raméa has a conversation with her that brings back memories of a similar conversation almost twenty-five years earlier. It ends in a heart-to heart conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set about a decade after Chapter 1

Raméa smiles slightly as her niece collapses on her bed, completely exhausted.

As she should be. Her niece, only an hour ago, was crowned Queen of the Four Kingdoms, and had to deal with every single lord from Cold Harbor to Killjoy's Hold swear their oaths of fealty, and for Kyra to swear her oaths back. It would be exhausting for anyone; it had been for Teublonf.

The man in question, Kyra's father and the second King of the Four Kingdoms, had only been dead for a month or so; while his wife was visiting family in Analon, he'd died in his sleep one night, only being discovered when Swyl the younger, now a member of his Blackguard, had opened the door after his father hadn't answered his repeated knocking and found the man dead. Peacefully sleeping, but dead.

Not that Raméa was surprised. The maesters (or her nephew Phillip, who was just as good as one) oft said that stress could play a role in one's death, and to Raméa, there was no one more stressed than her younger twin brother. Not just ruling Four Kingdoms (though that had been stressful enough) but Teublonf had seen and done things during the Wars of the Seven Kingdoms, and he'd already had grey hairs in his early forties, showing just how badly the stress affected him. It was so much like their father, who'd died at the age of forty-three

Phillip said the overload of nearly fifty years of stress (or so) put too much strain on Teublonf's heart and while it meant he was active and vigorous in his youth, it also meant he died relatively early. Teublonf was fifty, not that old by Americanosi standards.

The aftermath, the month after Teublonf's death, had been a very stressful time. For one, Rowena had returned as quickly as she could from Analon, and had begun grieving for her husband, who, as per Wanasov tradition, was cremated, his ashes spread along the East Bank of the River Andan as had been done for hundreds of Wanasov Kings and Queens before him, with a statue immediately commissioned by Kyra for the crypts of Cracovia Heights, again as had been done for hundreds of prior Wanasov Kings and Queens. 

Raméa remembered seeing her brother's statue about two weeks after his death. In her eyes, the stonemason couldn't have done a better job. It depicted Teublonf standing, in his traditional clothing (boiled leather under plate and mail, with a crown on his head), one hand on his sheathed sword and another holding a circular Cracovian shield, to represent the rulers status as both a warrior supposed to kill any enemies that threatened his realm and as a protector supposed to shield his people from harm, and it had a neutral expression on its face, his head held high, much like Teublonf had had for much of his life. The statue itself was the same height and build as Teublonf had been when alive and in his prime, tall and wiry, and Raméa felt herself staring at that statue and seeing Teublonf as he'd been when he was crowned King. Regal, Courageous, and a true Wanasov, as opposed to a stone representation of that man.

She grieved for her brother, naturally. But seeing as she'd already lost her husband (whom she'd loved with all her heart), she knew how to process her grief. Raméa had been in her childhood home for the prior five years after Brandon Frosts death, only staying to witness the births of her grandsons, Teublonf (she'd crushed her gooddaughter Victoria in an embrace after learning she chose the name) and Vrien, before leaving the Estenhaal, her home for over twenty years, to return to the place where she truly belonged, Cracovia Heights, her niece Sharyn staying in the Estenhaal after falling in love with her son Devon.

It also meant more time with her brother and his wife and children; her nieces and nephews, all of whom she loved dearly. Teublonf and Rowena valued her advice and counsel, and the Styric lords in particular were happy to see her home, the daughter of the Styr. It had also meant she got to see Kyra's two children and Aramark's two children be born, the four of her grandnieces and nephews being young, lovely children, none older than four.

So when Teublonf had died, five years after she returned home, Raméa comforted her goodsister and nieces and nephews, assuring them they would get through everything together (they were Wanasovs, after all), and it would all be ok, though Raméa knew she herself needed to grieve, at one point having gnearly burst into tears while helping the soon to be crowned Kyra handle the lords of the Four Kingdoms as they trickled into Cracovia for the coronation. Only when Kyra dismissed her and she returned to her chambers did she truly grieve for him. It had been like when Brandon had died, but somehow even worse. Maybe because he'd been her brother longer than Brandon had been her husband.

So a month after Teublonf's death, Kyra had been crowned Kyra I Wanasov, Queen on the Blackwood Throne and Ruler of Four Kingdoms, and it also meant the spouse of the Ruler on the Blackwood Throne would, for the first time, be a non Styric, Kyra having married Loryn Northern, Lady Northern's second son, not long after Brandon had died. Not that anyone cared about blood anymore, the Four Kingdoms were much too intertwined, any objections having long been crushed by Teublonf early in his reign.

Which led to her current situation. Kyra had been utterly drained, collapsing into the bed as her aunt watched from her desk, smiling.

"Gods, that sucked."

Raméa chuckled. She once told Teublonf that Kyra was him if he'd been born a girl, and the older Kyra got the more Raméa was proven right. Kyra had been neutral or happy all throughout the ceremony and the subsequent feast, but behind closed doors, she was a different person. A tired young woman who wanted nothing more than to be with her spouse and sleep, even though Loryn was asleep in their chambers and Kyra was in Raméa's, wanting her aunt's counsel.

"Can't say I blame you,"

Kyra got up in the bed and sighing. "I don't know if I can do this." the smile on Raméa's face was wiped off it thanks to Kyra's depressed tone.

"You can. I know you can."

"No," Kyra shook her head and looked down. "I've all this responsibility now, I've prepared my whole life and now I don't want it."

Raméa suddenly remembered a conversation she'd had with Teublonf twenty five years ago, when they'd both been young and ready to build a new world from the ashes.

_"I never was made to be king. I never wanted it."_

_"Yet, who was it that unified the Styr not a few years ago? Who managed to get the Frost and Nokoseov men to aid you at Ofan? Who managed to make peace with our ancient enemies? You did all that. You're the one who ran the realm while Haragon wasted away - yes, I knew about that. So, naturally, the lords respect you greatly. As they should."_

"Your father said something similar to me when he was crowned King."

Kyra's head snapped up at that. "He did?"

Raméa nodded. "He once told me he never wanted the throne. I told him he earned it from his actions during the Wars."

"But my father wasn't born the heir. He was born the eighth child, who never would have expected to become King. I was born the heir, and now I don't want it." Kyra's hands were shaking now from nerves _Poor girl. She's got the fate of Four Kingdoms resting on her shoulders after all._

"Aye," Raméa conceded, making her way to her niece and sitting on the bed. She took her nieces hands in her own, looking at her and smiling. "But your father once told me that his bannermen respected you for who you were, not just because you were heir to the Blackwood Throne. I had no reason to think he was lying."

"My father said that?" Kyra was intrigued now.

Raméa nodded. "Your father was a complicated man, morally twisted even, but he had the respect of his bannermen I'm not sure I've ever seen anyone else have, and I know that you and all of your siblings inherited that through your actions."

Raméa continued. "The Styric lords saw you as their favorite daughter, and the other regions loved you similarly. Both because of your beauty and your martial abilities. Phillip's intelligence made him loved, Aramark and Swyl had their own martial prowess and Swyl is so much like his namesake who himself is regarded fondly, and Sharyn has her own way of charming the Wanasov bannermen. They believe in you and all of your siblings. You five have their loyalty. For all of your days."

"Tell me, what was my father like as a person?"

Raméa sighed. "Complicated. He had a twisted sense of morals but I think as he aged his actions haunted him, and he spent his whole reign trying to repent for them, and I think the fact that he survived the Wars when so many of those he loved didn't caused him to feel incredibly depressed and guilty, and it definitely contributed to his early death. Still, I loved him like a brother, your mother loved him with all her heart and his bannermen loved him similarly. I know you and your siblings loved him."

"I miss him," Kyra admitted. Tears were pooling in her eyes. _So much like_ _Teublonf's._ "I hope I make him proud. As both a daughter and a Queen."

"You made him immensely proud as a daughter. And I know you'll make him proud as a Queen." Teublonf had always spoken about how proud he was of Kyra during his and Raméa's regular correspondences, and how good of a Queen she would be. Maybe thats why Teublonf hadn't fought death so hard, he knew the Four Kingdoms were in good hands when he passed away. No doubt Kyra and Phillip and their younger siblings were their House's future, and Teublonf felt assured that it was a future in good hands.

"How?" Kyra's voice was choked and Raméa's heart ached for her. "How do you know? I haven't done anything yet." a few tears began to fall.

"Because," Raméa wiped a tear from her niece's cheek. "You have all the best parts of your parents. You have Teublonf's charisma, intelligence, and leadership, and your mother's beauty, grace, sense of honor and both of their martial ability. You are a Wanasov, and that name means much to the people of the Four Kingdoms. That's how I know." "Take a deep breath." she added when she saw Kyra begin to breathe heavily.

"You have the support you need, Kyra." Raméa reassured her. "And you will make an incredible Queen. Trust me."

Kyra's breathing slowly returned to normal. "You think so?"

Raméa smiled. "I know so." Kyra nodded.

"I miss him, too. More than you might think," Raméa admitted softly, causing Kyra's eyebrows to shoot up. "I hid it, because I'd already lost my husband and I knew how to process it. So I devoted my time to helping you and your mother and your siblings get through their grief. But all the same, I grieved."

"I'm sorry," her niece muttered. "I knew you grieved. Just not as much as I thought,"

Raméa smiled again "Don't worry about it. Your father and I were always close. Even when he became King and I became Lady of Demoory, we wrote to each other regularly, and I visited him as much as I could. And for a time, we were the last two Wanasovs left in Americanos, and the last of our generation of Wanasovs. Plus, we were twins, that has some role."

Kyra nodded, knowing how close Aramark and Sharyn were. In a way, the bond could be unnatural. "Thank you, Aunt Raméa" she added after a brief silence

Raméa smiled again and got out of the bed. "My pleasure. And," she raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think you have a husband to be with?"

Kyra blushed like a maiden and hastily made to get out of bed. "Y-yes, I do... I'll exit now." Raméa knew full well the now Queen very much loved her husband, the same way Rowena had loved Teublonf and Raméa herself had loved Brandon.

She left the room in a flash, closing the door behind her leaving Raméa on her own, who then locked her door and fell into her bed much like how her niece had earlier.

 _I know she'll make you proud, Teublonf,_ she thought to herself. _I know she will, she_ _always had. She'll build on and expand on what you and Haragon created. I hope that you watch over us._

As she let sleep overtake her, Raméa rested easy, knowing that what Cameron had thought about, Haragon had laid the foundations for and what Teublonf built, it was all in good hands. The future of House Wanasov was in good hands, and the House would become as powerful as it ever been, as loved as it had ever been, thanks to those that consisted of its next generation. Kyra the Queen, Phillip the Hand, Swyl and Aramark the knights, and Sharyn the beloved. 

The future was in good hands, and that alone made Raméa rest easy.


End file.
